Page 22 of Irish Fire and Forbidden Love
But that wasn’t the path I’d chosen. And if I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have found Maeve. The thought of never meeting her was unbearable, even worse than the idea she might never want me back. At least I’d had her once—felt the warmth of the sun, even if just for a moment.
Ian broke the silence. “I don’t know what you did, but if she still wants something to do with you, she’ll let you in. It’s not about convincin’ her. Just remind her why she picked you in the first place.”
I didn’t reply. The quiet world outside seemed to hum with its own wisdom, the starlight blanketing the hills in silver. A thick fog rolled across the ground, making it feel like we were floating.
“What if she thinks it’s all been a lie?” I finally asked.
“Has it been?”
“No. Not my feelings for her.”
“Then that’s all there is to it.”
I stared at the phone again, then redialed the pub.
Eliza answered, sharper this time. “Hello?”
“Eliza—”
“Seriously? Get a life.”
“Wait—please. Just put me on the phone with Maeve.”
There was a long, frustrated sigh on her end. “I don’t know why you’re bothering. If you haven’t convinced her by now, you’re not going to. I told her as much when she went to find you.”
“Unless she drove to Cork, Eliza, she didn’t come to me,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I was mugged and left in a farmer’s yard.”
Her voice was microscopic when she spoke next, “She went to you. I don’t know. She didn’t give me a location— she just left. Look, it’s busy here and I?—”
“I gotta go, Eliza.”
“How dangerous were the people who mugged you?”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, I said, “They didn’t kill me. That’s something.”
I hung up the phone. There was no way she could have tracked me down to where I’d been mugged. Could she have? Sure, plenty of people in the market saw me run after the boy. Maybe a few of them even saw me round the street, but if anyone actually knew what happened, then things would be a lot different. Wouldn’t they be? I’d heard of towns protecting their own, but Galway wasn’t exactly a small place. It was a major city. And cities chewed people up and spat them out.
“You alright there?” Ian asked.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the sudden glare of bright yellow lights swallowed the words before they could escape. The oncoming car’s headlights washed over us, flooding it with an eerie glow that made my stomach lurch. I glanced upinstinctively, my heart leaping to my throat. Ian looked a second too late.
Ian’s old truck rattled as it surged through the stop sign, and the other vehicle hit us broadside with a deafening crash. The sound was visceral— metal folding against metal, glass shattering, and the gut-wrenching thud of impact. The force hurled us sideways, slamming my shoulder against the door. My seatbelt bit into my chest, knocking the breath from my lungs.
As the world spun in a chaotic blur of darkness and motion, I thought back to the last car crash I’d been in. That was back when I’d been with my first love Rebecca. I’d been driving then, and I’d been distracted. We flipped and I cracked my skull against the steering wheel. I’d lost my memory in those few days, and in that time, Rebecca had stopped loving me and found someone else.
My head snapped forward, and pain exploded in my skull as the car careened off the road. Only this time, I didn’t black out. I listened to the gravel crunch beneath us, then the truck smashing into a weathered wooden fence, splintering it with a sharp crack. I was fully awake to it. Completely alert, and it was all the scarier.
When everything finally stilled, only the creak of the truck’s frame and the faint bleating of startled sheep filled the air. My ears buzzed with the aftermath of the crash, a high-pitched whine that drowned out the distant hum of the other car speeding away.
I groaned, gingerly touching the side of my head. Pain radiated down my neck. “Ian?” My voice came out hoarse, barely audible.
Ian shifted in the driver’s seat, a hand pressed to his temple. “I’m here. You alright?” his voice wavered.
I scanned the scene. Our headlights illuminated the nearby flock of sheep, their woolly forms glowing in the misty night.They huddled together near the broken fence, wide-eyed and unharmed, their soft bleats blending with the rustle of the wind through the fields.
“I think so,” I said, wincing as I unclipped my seatbelt. My fingers trembled as I braced myself against the door, the rough texture of the handle grounding me for a moment. “Are you okay?”
Ian nodded, his jaw clenched. “Yeah. Damn fool didn’t stop. Bloody hell, my truck…” He trailed off, surveying the crumpled side of the vehicle with a grimace.
